I remembered lines from Lewis Carroll’s characters this morning about “impossible things.”
Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said, “one can’t believe impossible things.”
“I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why sometimes I believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast!”
A few hours ago, someone tried to encourage me by telling me I should set a goal I think I can’t achieve. What?! That doesn’t make any sense! A goal I think I can’t achieve? Isn’t that a recipe for failure, hopelessness, and shame?
I thought about it more. Something about setting an impossible goal, one I think I can’t accomplish, sets me up for an extraordinary challenge. It’s not a great goal if I know I can reach it. But if there’s doubt in my mind–if there’s potential for devastating failure–then that’s an honest goal. That kind of goal-setting beckons a life of adventure, faith, and flair. It lets God in.
I remembered today that God specializes in impossible things.
I called one of my best writing friends during my late morning rest between dusting and vacuuming. She said that she was going “to pray for three impossible things today.” We talked about the impossible dreams we have for our children and for our own lives.
Why not dream big? Why not set impossible goals and just see what we’re capable of and what God does in that moment of extraordinary belief? I want to believe six impossible things before breakfast. That seems a lot like living with flair.
What seems impossible might just not be.